


Broken Children

by orphan_account



Category: My Chemical Romance
Genre: Dead Grandmothers, Dolls, Fluff, Hook-Up, Idiots in Like, M/M, Pencey Prep!Frank, Smut
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-05-29
Updated: 2015-05-29
Packaged: 2018-04-01 18:36:49
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,372
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4030375
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/orphan_account
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Frank's Nona left him her house when she died, the one filled with her freaky doll collection that may scare him but he can't bear to pack up and forget. This is kind of a hit to his sex life. So, when he finds someone who <i>gets it, </i>he sure a hell isn't letting him go so easily.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Broken Children

Frank hated going to his grandmother's house. It wasn't her, of course, he loved her and all, but the doll thing was just _creepy,_ okay.   
Every wall had shelves, and every shelf was stuffed with dolls. Some were china and porcelain and had creepy bonnets and eyes and looked sad all the time. Others were haughty looking plastic ones with real human hair or whatever, and itchy looking tulle clothes. Some were ragdolls, or hand puppets, and some were almost like Pinocchio, with wooden joints and everything. His Nana said those weren't _dolls,_ Frank, they're _dummies,_ but whatever.  
He couldn't even take a piss without some cousin of Chuckie leering at him from under bright green troll hair. He couldn't jerk off in the shower without some porcelain doll in a baby blue ball gown judging the size of his dick or whatever from her spot on the shower wall.  
He didn't actually tell any of this to his Nana, though, because she loved her dolls, and he could just imagine seeing her face fall if he said they were creepy. So he simply smiled and nodded every time she brought home a new doll, babbling excitedly about how old or smelly or _whatever_ it was.  
"Looks great, Nana," he'd say, smiling at her over his cereal and trying to avoid looking at the doll in question. He'd get nightmares.  
She would beam at him and rattle on about how she though it would look good and such and such shelf next to some other doll, unaware that her grandson was less than thrilled about the addition, and _scared of dolls._

xxx

It was hard, living with her permanently. She was wonderful and all, but he missed his parents. He missed his mother even though he should hate her for running off and leaving him and his dad. He did, however, feel upset that she had to wait fo him to hit his teens before she left. It would have been easier if he didn't remember her.  
And it wasn't his father's fault that he loved his wife and was stricken when she left, but it _was_ his fault when he drowned himself in alcohol because of it, unable to take care of his own son.  
For the first few years of living with his Nana, he'd simply stay in his room most of the time, shutting everything out, but after a while he got over it and decided to he happy.  
He would stop being scared of the dolls, he decided. He'd spend more time with Nana. He'd make more friends than just Ray and Bob, because he was tired of third wheeling all the time.  
But obviously, those plans were cut short by his Nana's death. He remembered sitting next to her and holding her hand, not even looking up when his father stumbled into the room, sober for once, and he didn't care that it had been seven years since he last saw his dad in the flesh. He didn't look at him.  
"You're late," he said, as flat as the line on the heart monitor, and then he got up and walked out of the room.

The funeral was even worse, because his dad didn't even show up _at all_ this time around, and the only other people there were his cousins and aunts and uncles and Nana's book club friends.   
There would be a couple family members walking up to him, saying how sorry they were, how they knew how close the two of them were, how he was welcome to stay with them as long as he liked. It didn't matter, though, because he was nineteen now and could take care of himself. His Nana left him her house, her dolls, everything, so he didn't even need to get a job anymore.   
She had told him that she wanted him to be able to do music like he wanted without worrying about money.  
His hands were shaking just from thinking about it. He wanted her back more than anything, he wanted it to all go back to normal.

xxx

Frank spent about two years moping and ignoring the dolls before Bob and Ray managed to kick him into shape again, pulling him off the couch and unplugging his tv, finally packing the stuff in Nana's untouched room, cleaning out the fridge. But when they moved to get rid of the dolls, Frank had to stop them.  
"Frank, you hate these things," Ray reminded him, voice soft like he was talking to a newborn horse that he didn't want to startle.  
"Yeah, I know," Frank mumbled, sighing as he took Barbara the troll doll from Ray's hand and putting it back on the shelf over the toilet. "But I don't wanna... Fuck. I just want to keep them. They were Nana's," he settles on, shrugging.  
Ray eyed him for a moment before shrugging, too, "Okay."

xxx

So he got a haircut, got a band, even got a girlfriend for a little while before they got sick of each other and she got sick of his dolls.  
He still remembers the fight like it was.....a while ago. (They didn't last long enough for him to care _that_ much.)  
She had started by saying that the dolls creeped her out, and Frank laughed and said they freaked him out, too. She rolled her eyes and said that she meant that she didn't like him owning them because, "Baby, it's a little, I don't know....gay."  
So that lasted long.  
He's kind of given up any hope of finding any nice girl (or guy) out there who actually likes him and _everything_ that comes with him.  
But he's also decided that it's okay, like, he _likes_ being able to drink milk from the carton and all that shit, he is a free motherfucker.  
But he just gets a little lonely sometimes.

xxx

So his band just finished up playing a show at this grubby little shithole bar, and he needs a drink, because he is _fried._ The show was great, he can't remember being this sore after playing, and he feels great and in pain in the best way.  
It's like the pit is a vagina and he came out well-fucked.  
He really needs a drink.

He's at the bar when a familiar weight lands on his back, wrapping themselves around him and giggling in his ear.  
"Hey, buddy, there's a cute guy who needs fucking from the looks of it, over there," James purrs into his ear, and Frank turns his head a little to see who James is pointing out, and _fuck_ his sweet momma's soul, this guy is fucking pretty.  
The guy is hunched in the corner and in skin tight jeans and pink shitkickers, with a red leather jacket hugging his chest under his crossed arms. Frank's pretty sure that he's wearing eyeliner and maybe lipstick, too, and his jacket is definitely a women's fit, and he is, once again, pretty.  
"Yeah?" Frank smiles, licking his lips as his fingers close around his beer, dragging them over the glass and feeling them get wet from the condensation.  
"Oh, yeah. He had his eyes on you the entire show, baby, you got this," James cackled before pushing off to go harass some terrified looking girls.  
Frank chugged down the rest of his beer, pretending to not feel Pretty's eyes on him the entire time, and slid a couple bills over the counter before hopping off the too-tall stool and heading to the corner.  
Pretty didn't even look away, and Frank knew he hit the jackpot. The ones that aren't too shy, camp as hell, and have the curves for it are always the _best_ lays. It is a little unfortunate that this one doesn't seem like someone who sticks around for next times.  
When Frank finally pushes through the crowd to Pretty and gets right up in his face, the first thing Pretty says is, "Your place, man. I'm crashing with my brother right now, and I am _not_ down for him hearing that shit."  
Frank's first thought is to mess with him and be all _whaaat that's not what I came here for!_ but he isn't fooling anyone, so he just grins and shrugs.  
"Sure, but it used to be my Nana's, so there's some freaky shit there," he warns, kind of not wanting this to happen _again,_ especially when the pick of the night is this hot.  
"I can handle freaky."

xxx

On the ride there, Frank learns that Pretty's name is _Gerard,_ and he's an artist with a love for shitty movies and good coffee. He also talks waaay too much, which Frank normally finds annoying, but Gerard's more than a little cute, so he finds himself actually (gasp) _listening_ and laughing along. What the fuck.

xxx

Not only is Gerard pretty, but his tongue should be one of the seven world wonders. Why seven? a distant part of Frank's brain thinks, and he kind of feels the need to share this thought even though Gerard's mouth is on his dick,  
"Why," Frank gasps, fingers tightening in Gerard's hair," Are there-fuck, that's good- Why are there seven world wonders?"  
Gerard pulls off a little to glance up at him with a smile, lips raw looking and shiny. Frank wants to bite them.  
"Because the world is a wonderful place," he giggles, going back to licking at the underside of Frank's cock and massaging that knot of nerves under Frank's tip with his thumb.  
"No, I get why there are-oh shit, do that again-world wonders, just...," Frank trails off when Gerard sinks down on him again, cupping his balls and humming a little, to let him know to keep going like they're having a normal conversation, and it feels _amazing.  
_ "Why seven?" Frank finally breathes, arching his back off the mattress and making a keening noise.  
"Fuck if I know," Gerard mumbles, pulling off to tongue at Frank's hip tattoos and leave a mark right over the left one's outstretched wing. "Maybe because seven's a lucky number?" He climbs back up Frank's body to press their lips together again, running his tongue over Frank's teeth and biting at his lips as his hips move against Frank's.   
"Oh, wait," Gerard pants, breaking off the kiss. "Maybe they wanted one for each continent or some shit, right? There are seven continents, right?"  
Frank tried to recount all of them in his head, but then Gerard found just the right angle and his mind completely blanked out, "I can't even remember the one I'm _on,_ " he giggles, hips snapping up desperately of their own accord.  
"Thanks," Gerard grins against the skin at the base of Frank's neck. "Fuck, c'mon, fuck me."  
Frank nods and sits up to root through his bedside table, but it's hard to concentrate when Gerard is trailing kisses over his spine like that. He finally manages to find a condom, too, and pushes Gerard onto his back and spreads his legs to lie between them, guiding his cock to press into him.  
"You okay?" Frank asks, biting the inside of his cheek to keep from moving too soon, and he watches as the muscles of Gerard's face slowly relax as the pain fades away.  
"Yeah, go, go," Gerard whispers back, and Frank _goes._ The room fills up with a steady and somewhat desperate _slap slap_ sound and their panting. Frank knows that he should probably loosen his grip on Gerard's hips, but the sounds that he's making are delicious, so he simply goes harder and faster, despite the cramp building up in his thighs. He loses himself in the feeling of another body slick against his and the sounds of Gerard getting the right angle, too, steadily increasing in volume as Gerard's painted fingernails rake down his chest, leaving red and raised skin in their wake as Frank shifts all his weight to one hand so that he can wrap the other around Gerard's dick and get him to the edge until he comes, arching off the bed and eyes falling shut as he gasps Frank's name.  
Frank fucks him through it, pounding into the older man until he comes with a cry, sagging onto Gerard's chest while he catches his breath.  
"Good?" he asks, because his Nana raised him right, and Gerard giggles a little, brushing a hand through Frank's hair.  
"Fuck yeah. That doll is judging me, though, could you maybe turn it around to face the wall or something?"  
Frank straightens up and pulls out, tying off the condom and dropping it into the trashcan as he glances over at the doll in question. It's Mary, the bitchiest doll ever, and also the one that freaks him out the most   
"Fuck no, I can't touch them. M'terrified of dolls," he states, matter-of-factly.  
"Then why do you have them?" Gerard asks with a puzzled smile, sitting up a little. Frank is aware that it's less awkward when they fall asleep immediately or simply leave right after because they don't have to chit chat or anything, but he genuinely likes talking to this one for some reason.  
"They were my Nana's. I can't just...take them down," he shrugs, climbing back on the bed and wiping himself off on a corner of the sheets, and Gerard mirrors him absently.  
"Yeah, I gotcha. It's like disrespecting their memory and shit," Gerard nods, and Frank bites his lip to keep from smiling as he ducks his head, because someone finally _gets it,_ which never happens.  
"So...," he trails off, because now it's getting awkward.  
"So, I guess I'm just gonna turn around that doll and we can have round two."  
Frank kind of really likes this guy.

xxx

Frank _really_ likes this guy, which sucks because he hasn't seen him again in two weeks. He doesn't really know why Gerard has him so floored, and neither does James, who has to accompany him every time Frank goes to the bar in hopes of seeing Gerard again,  
"Hey, we have a set tomorrow, maybe he'll show up for the show," James smiles, and Frank nods dejectedly as he pulls on his coat and walks out into the brisk March air, leaving the bar behind as they head to their respective homes.

xxx

Gerard does show up for the set, and Frank tries really hard to not show how thrilled he is, because Gerard really isn't the kind to go again with the same person if it's just a hookup, and that's all that Frank was.  
Frank doesn't normally get attached to his fucks like this, but Gerard was _different._ He got the doll thing, he was sweet, he was funny, Frank actually _likes_ him.  
So he tries really hard to keep his cool when they chat after the show for a while, and he's doing pretty good, so he doesn't act inappropriately when Gerard offers to buy him a drink and squeal. That isn't saying much, since he kind of doesn't even know _how_ to squeal, but you get the picture.  
So they talk for a while and finish off their drinks, and the conversation has died down, and Frank was actually feeling pretty comfortable in the silence until some random voice in the back of his head (in a middle schooler's voice) said, _"awkwaaaaard,"_ and it was suddenly too awkward to bear. Coughing a little to clear his throat and break up the quiet (it wasn't technically very quiet because of all the background noise, but still), mumbling about going out for a smoke.  
Smiling up at him as he got up from his chair, Gerard asked, "Mind if I join you?" His first thought was _Jesus, this one doesn't let go,_ but then he remembered that he was Gerard, and that he actually liked him, and promptly did an inner-head squeal.  
"Yeah, sure."

xxx

Their still burning cigarettes were forgotten in their hands, since they were busy fisting each other's jacket/hair, trailing smoke around their entwined bodies as they made out against the brick wall like teenagers.  
Gerard grunted and moved his cigarette hand to join the other one in Frank's hair and accidentally burnt his cheek, right under his eyes, making Frank jump away with a yelp.  
"Fuck, sorry, sorry," Gerard fussed over his face, kissing over the slightly reddening mark as he stubbed his smoke out against the wall next to Frank's head, and Frank simply dropped his and shuffled his feet and hoped that he had succeeded in stepping on it. He kind of didn't care about proper cigarette disposal when Gerard was licking over his cheekbone like that.  
Frank grabbed Gerard's jacket lapels and pulled him back down for another kiss, tasting his own mouth on Gerard's tongue and shivering with his whole body when Gerard smoothed his hands down Frank's sides to rest on his hips, pushing him more firmly against the wall and kissing him harder.  
"Fu-uck," Gerard gasped when Frank arched his hips off the wall to push them against his. "C'mon, your place again?"  
"Yeah, hell yeah," Frank grinned, knowing that his poor heart would have to deal with it the next morning, but he wanted this now, and that was what mattered.

xxx

His poor heart was aching in a way that it hadn't ached in a long time, probably somewhere between having no Poptarts left and breaking up with Jamia all those ages ago in fucking high school. It wasn't as bad as he expected (he kind of barely knew Gerard) but it still hurt when he woke up to a cold bed and a phone number on the pillow with a _winky face._  
"Ray, I'm his _booty call_ now," Frank wailed into the phone, sounding a little bit like he was going to cry.  
"On the bright side, he thinks you're hot," Ray offered, and it really didn't help.  
"Your boyfriend thinks I'm hot, but he's not gonna date me," Frank scowled at his reflection in the mirror on his way out the door and pretended Ray could see it.  
"Bob doesn't think anyone's hot," Ray stated matter-of-factly, and Frank rolled his eyes and hung up.  
Fuck Bob and his personality-only shit. He knew Bob also noticed Ray's fabulous thighs.

xxx

He repeatedly rang James' doorbell until his roommate, Mikey, opened the door.  
"Hey, what's up? James is napping, I can wake him up though," Mikey offered, stepping aside to let Frank in.  
"Just boy problems. And that's okay, I haven't jumped on him in a while," Frank smiled, and Mikey shrugged and walked back to the couch, going back to text Alicia or whoever it was this week if they had broken up _again._

Frank slowly opened the door to James's tiny room, making sure to not make any noise until he launched himself onto his friend's sleeping body with a dull thud.  
"Wha-fu- FRANK!" James spluttered, jerking awake and pushing Frank off of him. "What the fuck."  
"You love me," Frank declared, making kissy faces at James until he laughed and shook his head.  
"Alright, what's up?"  
"Just... Uh, I saw him again yesterday. And we, uh," Frank felt his cheeks heat up. He was too sober for this.  
"Yeah, yeah, get to the point," James laughed, taking pity in him.  
"Anyway, he was gone when I woke up, which I knew would happen, but this time he left a _note._ With his _number._ He thinks I'm his bootycall now," Frank sighed, glumly.  
"Aw, it's okay. He might just want to talk, y'know?"  
"Sure," Frank snorted, skeptically.  
Just then, the doorbell rang again, so Frank got up to answer it because both James and Mikey were lazy fuckers who rarely answered the door. Also because he had wanted James to feel sorry for him and all he was doing was being fucking optimistic. He did not need that right now.  
"Hello- Gerard?" he cut himself off as he swung the door open.  
"Frank?" Gerard asked, a curious look on his face. "What are you doing here? You- Oh god, please tell me _you_ didn't sleep with my brother, too," he begged, his face blanching.  
"No! I-wait, you're Mikey's brother?" Frank gaped, dumbly remembering where they were and stepping aside to let Gerard in.  
"Yeah. I'm crashing with him, remember? Until the paint fumes clear out of my house?" Gerard reminded Frank, who nodded.  
"Right. Huh. Small world, isn't it?" he chuckled, running a hand through his hair.  
"It actually kind of isn't," Mikey's voice said from down the hall, making them both jump. "I told him to go to your show, man. You both had vibes, I could tell. James helped," he added, strolling in with a bitten apple in his hand.  
"You... You tried to set us up?" Frank asked, mentally slapping himself because him and Gerard weren't _together,_ they just slept with each other.  
"Yeah," Mikey shrugged. "And it worked. You two won't shut up about each other."  
And with that, he casually exited the room, leaving the two men staring at each other.

xxx

"He gave me his number _for real_ this time, no hollaback shit," Frank jabbered excitedly at Bob, hanging off his arm while Bob pretended to ignore him.  
"Good for you," Ray piped up from the couch.  
"I know," Frank beamed, snuggling into Bob some more, getting at an itch on his nose with Bob's scratchy chin.  
"I'm gonna get, like, regularly laid, like you guys," Frank sighed dreamily, and Bob snorted.  
"It's about the personality, not their physical app-"  
"Oh, shut up, I have a hot date tonight."

xxx

So he may have panicked more than usual over what to wear to said date. He may have employed the help of Ray, Bob, and James to get him fabulous. He may have pulled out some eyeliner from ages ago to see if it still made his eyes look sparklier, hoping that eyeliner didn't expire.  
"I'm pretty sure it does," Ray said worriedly, unconsciously carding a hand through Bob's hair as Bob's head rested in Ray's lap. "You might get, like, eye cancer."  
"I don't think that's a thing," James frowned, poking his head out of Frank's closet. "By the way, how about this?" He held up a white button up with some fancy ass barely noticeable blue stripes.  
Frank squinched up his nose, scrutinizing the shirt. "Nah. It's too dressy, it's just take-out at his house."  
"Exactly. So it should be comfy, semi casual, and easy to get out of," Bob quipped helpfully, eyes widening as everyone stared at him. "What? It's at _his house_ , we all know how that ends up."  
"Ew," Ray said after a moment's pause.  
"Thank you for that image," James said sincerely, wiggling his eyebrows at Frank, who scowled and threw a pillow at him, blushing.

xxx

"So this is your house, huh?" Frank said, looking around at the hallway, scanning the photos on the walls, the ones he recalled had been repainted or something.  
"Yup. It used to be my grandma's, so...," Gerard shrugged. Frank turned to look at him, head tilted a little, because _huh,_ he would've thought that Gerard would've mentioned that before.  
"Huh," Frank nodded, smiling a little.

xxx

The food was good, but it tasted so much better on Gerard's tongue. They had managed to only eat and talk for about fifteen minutes before someone did something and they somehow ended up making out. Again.  
It started off slow and lazy and nice, and then it was deeper and harder and with more intent. Frank pushed Gerard over onto his back on the couch so he could kiss him while they were horizontal, which was always better.   
Gerard wrapped his arms around Frank's waist and pulled him down on top of him, taking Frank's weight and pulling him in further by the back of his neck, nose pressed into Frank's cheek as he sucked on Frank's tongue.  
His hands eventually dropped from Frank's waist to his ass, squeezing a little when Frank hitched his thigh up against Gerard's hard cock.  
"Fuck," he broke the kiss off to grunt, dropping his head back to the couch as Frank moved over him, rubbing their hips together, fingers scrambling to get all that denim out of the way.  
"Fuck," Frank echoed, finally getting their dicks out and sighing when it was _finally_ just skin-on-skin.  
"Wait, c'mon, bedroom," Gerard panted, pushing at Frank's chest to get him off.  
"Yeah, fuck, yeah," Frank nodded frantically, getting up and adjusting his uncomfortable pants, following Gerard as he walked down some hall and up fucking _stairs_ (ugh) to a door.  
"Wait, gotta warn you, it used to be my grandma's remember? So, she had a sort of collection...," Gerard said nervously, and Frank almost screamed. Instead, he rolled his eyes.  
"Gerard, there are dolls on every surface of my house. It's fine," he said, heart jumping when he realized _wait a minute_ holy shit Gerard knew exactly what it was like, but then the door opened and he saw stuffed bats, like, everywhere.  
Everywhere.  
Frank could only stare for a while before his dick forced his mouth to start working again.  
"Okay, wow. I'd be freaked out, but I really need to fuck you or _something_ right now," Frank said after a short pause where he assessed the room and Gerard assessed him. He glanced over at Gerard, "S'cool, though. Way better than dolls."  
Gerard beamed at him and pushed him onto the bed, licking into his mouth again.

xxx

When Frank woke up, it was in a different bed with Gerard wrapped around him and a dozen bats staring at him with glassy eyes.  
"Helloooo," he said quietly to them, loopy from the awesome sex he'd been having all night and the fact that it was- he checked the clock on Gerard's night stand- six in the morning.  
"You're cute," Gerard mumbled into the back of Frank's neck, arms tightening around Frank, and he smiled and let his eyes slip shut again, matching Gerard's even breathing behind him.  
This guy was a keeper, as his Nona would say. This guy got it, got him, and Frank liked that.

**Author's Note:**

> I'll admit that I was a little lazy with this *SORRYNOTSORRY* but I wanted to get something up here. This is it.


End file.
